


forget

by dancingthru



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:34:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingthru/pseuds/dancingthru
Summary: "sick of my small heart, made of steelsick of the wounds that never heal"a first date with tobin isn't the type of memory that christen can easily erase





	forget

"Stop bobbing your head or I'm going to burn you."

Christen froze, her eyes locking with Kelley's in the mirror. Kelley smirked, dropping her attention back to the curling iron in her hand. Her tongue stuck out slightly in concentration as she twisted her wrist, pulling back to admire a perfect curl. She deliberated for a moment, tugging at Christen's hair lightly until it loosened into a wave.

"Close your eyes." Kelley wielded the hairspray like a weapon, and Christen clapped both of her palms tightly across her eyes, scrunching them tight as the cloying smell filled the air. "Okay, you're in the clear, open."

The room was soft, warm in its silence for a moment. Kelley had on some Spotify playlist that she specifically made to calm Christen down — "You get too hyped up before dates and I'm always afraid you're going to spaz out," Kelley had explained as she put it on. "Or run. Or something." — and she was just beginning to relax into it when the door to her room banged open and Emily tumbled in.

"Hi." Emily was out of breath, hanging onto the doorjamb by her fingertips. "Don't panic or anything, uh, shit—" She had somehow tripped over herself, knocking her shoulder into the wall. "How bad would it be if your date is already here? Like right now?"

Kelley and Christen locked eyes again, gaping slightly as they examined her half-curled hair. A soft stuttering noise came out of Kelley's throat for a moment as her brow furrowed, and then she sprang into her typical action.

"Emily, over here, now." She pointed with the curling iron, shoving it into Emily's hands. "Soft waves, okay? Make them natural."

"I really don't—" Emily shot Christen a panicked look as Kelley shoved her into her down onto the bed behind Christen. Before she could complain, Kelley had darted out of the room, leaving Emily with the iron in one hand and her mouth half open.

"Hand me my phone, freshman," Christen gritted out. "And curl. Soft waves. Go."

"I really don't—"

"You're in this sorority, right?" Her eyes narrowed slightly, and Emily nodded. grabbing a strand of hair. "Then you can curl."

"Yes, ma'am." 

Kelley flew back into the room, gesturing wildly with her makeup bag in one hand as she slammed the door shut.

"Okay, Ashlyn is down there stalling things, but that is only going to last so long so—" she pulled out a contour brush and pointed it menacingly in Christen's direction "—hold extremely still."

"I just don't understand how I messed this up," Christen muttered, opening her phone and scrolling down through her texts. "I mean, I specifically said— oh, shit."

"You specifically said what?" Kelley glanced down, then choked out a laugh. "My God, you really did say 7, didn't you?"

"I thought I said 8:30!" Christen screwed her eyes shut, cheeks flushing, but Kelley smacked her lightly until she opened her eyes again. "Who says 7 for a first date? That's so early, it's coming on so strong, like dear God she's going to think I'm a mess—"

"Hey, hey." Kelley snapped her fingers in front of Christen's face. "Snap out of it. This is just another Tinder date. It's a test drive. It's supposed to be fun. Don't psych yourself out. You're in control."

"You've got this," Emily echoed from her stance behind Christen, twisting one of the final straight sections of hair. "Besides, how cool can someone with a name like that be anyways?"

Kelley laughed, smirking appreciatively up at Emily, and Christen took a deep breath. This didn't matter. It wouldn't matter. This was all just for fun.

Ten minutes later, Kelley shoved Christen out of the room with her hair decently curled and her clothes only slightly crooked. It wasn't her best makeup look, but as Kelley had pointed out, it would have to do. Downstairs, they found a tall, tanned girl looking slightly trapped in her spot in the corner of the couch, regarding Ashlyn like a caged animal.

"Ash, please tell me you're not giving her the Ted Cruz Fidel Castro conspiracy." Christen flashed a quick smile, grabbing her friend by the arm and shoving her not-so-subtly towards the kitchen door. "I'm so sorry for that."

"You're good." Her date stood, smiling back in a way that was lopsided and crooked and somehow reminded Christen of a puppy in the best of ways. "I was actually kind of getting into it, your friend is pretty convincing."

"Oh god." Kelley scoffed, then caught hold of Ashlyn's shirt and started tugging her out of the room. "Don't get her started, please, you'll never get her stopped."

"They seem—" The door slammed shut as Kelley and Ashlyn left, and Tobin turned with a nervous smile. "They seem nice."

Christen laughed softly, scanning Tobin slowly. She seemed almost too comfortable, one hand tucked into her jeans and the other running through her hair. But her smile was still nervous, her eyes shifting around the room.

"That's one way to describe them." She stuck out her hand. "Christen. Nice to finally meet you."

"Tobin." There was that smile again, all sloppy and a little confused and entirely endearing. "Wanna do this?"

***

They ended up at the beach, which was where Christen always ended up, it seemed, with a girl she liked. There was something simple about the night, like it was something out of a bad 90s pop punk ballad — a combination of late-summer breeze and her toes digging into the sand and that goddamn smile. 

They caught a movie on the pier, and she found out that Tobin was jumper during horror movies, literally latching onto her arm with every crescendo of the soundtrack. Tobin bought her ice cream and teased her for not liking cones, even as she was forced to lick at the melting mint chip dripping down her forearm. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder for an hour or so, watching the waves lick up towards the sand.

"Cats or dogs?" Christen laughed at the question, nudging Tobin with her shoulder.

"What is this, running the gauntlet of cheesy first date questions?" Tobin smirked, dropping her chin slightly, and Christen tried not to flush. "But dogs. Obviously. Not even a question."

"Not even a question?" Christen swiveled, raising her eyebrows, but Tobin was already grinning, hands raised. "Hey, I agree. Dogs all the way. Just didn't expect you to be so passionate."

"I like dogs." She shrugged, and Tobin laughed, and somehow that laugh was contagious enough to shake Christen's shoulders too. "Burgers or tacos?"

"Both." Tobin's answer was just as quick. "I have this really great idea, actually, where you combine the two concepts of a burger and a taco together—"

"This is a shit idea—" Tobin grabbed her arm, cupping a hand over her mouth, and Christen twisted away, laughing.

"No listen to me, listen to me—" Christen let out a yelp as Tobin wrapped both arms around her shoulders. "You take the best parts of two incredible foods, and you merge them into a super food—"

"A super food?" She pushed back at Tobin, who held up her arms innocently. "I thought kale was a super food. Healthy stuff like that."

"Please don't tell me you're the type of girl who eats kale." Tobin scrunched up her face. "I'll be, like, at least half as into you if that's the case."

Christen flushed slightly, letting her hands tighten on Tobin's jacket. She tugged slightly, and Tobin leaned in almost automatically. Her smile was smaller now, less goofy and more contained.

"You saying you're into me?" Tobin shrugged and Christen grinned wider. "Not that I care, I mean, I was just wondering—"

Tobin cut her off, and it would have been unexpected if everything from this whole date hadn't been so _predictable_ in the best of ways, like a page out of a book Christen had already read. Tobin's mouth tasted like strawberry chapstick and she pressed Christen backwards gently, gripping her rib cage, and Christen felt like her breath was being stolen out of her lungs.

"I'm sorry—" Tobin pulled back, letting go, but Christen followed her, keeping their foreheads pressed together. "I don't normally go for it this quickly, I just have been wanting to do that since I first saw you tonight and—"

"Shut up." This time, Christen was the one cutting her off, pressing her down into the sand and soothing her into silence. There was quiet in the waves crashing close to their feet and Tobin's mouth on hers, and Christen melted into it.

***

It was later, much later. They were laying on their back, fingers intertwined, Christen's cheek pressed to Tobin's bare arm. 

"See anything?"

Christen squinted, then shook her head.

"If there's stars up there, I sure as hell can't see them. Damn smog."

Tobin sighed, tilting her head to look at Christen instead.

"I hate that part of this city." Christen smiled at her, letting her eyes flick down to her lips. "I miss the stars."

"Are you about to use a cheesy line on me?" Her voice had dropped close to a whisper, and she pressed a kiss to Tobin's cheek, short and sweet.

"No." Tobin laughed, tipping her head to kiss her firmly. "That would've been pretty smooth, though."

"Mm." Christen hummed lightly, swallowing a laugh so she could save her breath to kiss her back. "Keep that in mind for the future."

It was silent again, for minutes, until the clouds that they had mistaken for smog began to let loose and the chilly drizzle led them to sprint back to Christen's car, diving into the refuge of the Jeep only to burst out laughing. Christen looked across the expanse of the front seat, watching as Tobin pushed away a wet strand of hair with that same grin splitting her face in two. There was a warmth in her chest, something calm and soft, and it wasn't what she had expected — it didn't burn, it wasn't wild — but Christen felt something wholly and entirely at home.

***

"This was one hell of a first date." 

It was close to 3 a.m. and Christen was ignoring upwards of 10 worried where-the-hell-are-you texts in order to kiss Tobin for a little longer, the rain beating a quiet cacophony into the roof of the car. Tobin pulled back for a second, smoothing her hair back gently.

"Tell me something," Christen said, her voice soft. "How long do I have to wait to ask you out again without looking desperate?"

"A few hours, maybe." She let out a slight gasp as Tobin kissed down her neck, her hands steady against her back. "Gotta keep me guessing, you know—" she bit down lightly on Christen's collarbone, grinning at the subtle cant of her hips in response "—make me work for it."

Christen's phone buzzed again, and she let out a long groan.

"I'm so sorry, but I've gotta go." She smiled apologetically. "Call me?"

Tobin just flashed a smile.

"Maybe." Christen's jaw dropped in mock shock as Tobin swung the door open. "Gotta keep you guessing, right?"

The door shut, and Tobin sprinted up to her front porch, arms over her head in a desperate attempt to ward off the rain. Christen waited until she saw the front door open, and then Tobin turned, raising a hand in goodbye, and she could see the outline of that smile. It stayed with her as she pulled away, leaning over to turn up the radio.

It was only seconds later when her phone buzzed yet again, and she grabbed at it, ready to fire off an annoyed text to Kelley or Emily or whichever of her sorority sisters was anxiously awaiting all the details of her date. Her shoulders softened instead when she saw who it was from.

_Tobin: Sorry for not being cool enough to wait, but I couldn't save this until morning. Tonight was perfect. I hope we can do it again soon._

Christen flushed, immediately sliding right to open her phone and answer, but the light turned green before she could finish. She dropped it into her cupholder, turning right and tucking those words into her memory, turning them over and over again in her mind. There was something soft and calm about driving through Los Angeles at night — an anonymity to the city, its sprawling, bustling energy dissolving into an intimate maze of side streets and half-empty highways. She decided to take the long way home, turning the radio up even louder as she played back the night, that first kiss and all the ones that followed.

She wasn't the type to click with others. Not at first. It took almost a full semester of Kelley incessantly texting her and showing up at her dorm room for the two to finally fall together as best friends, and another semester to earn the same love from Ashlyn and Emily and Julie and the rest of the sorority. Christen knew this about herself — she was quiet, and not in the normal way of most sorority girls who call themselves "shy" or "introverted." Christen preferred to keep her mind quiet, to spend time away from others, reading and thinking and just _being_ in a solitary way.

In the past, this had kept her isolated. College was different — she didn't make friends easily, but the ones who stuck around were there for the long term, taking hold of her life in a way that felt natural, comfortable. But dating and girls and kissing and all that came with the general idea of romance had still felt foreign, alien, unconquerable to her, until Kelley pretty much forced her to make a Tinder profile, which resulted in Kelley picking out all of her profile pictures, writing up a fairly decent bio and swiping her right into a handful of standard, uncomfortable dates.

Until she met Tobin, whose pickup line of choice involved asking after her favorite type of cheese and who was straight forward enough to ask her out on a date after less than ten minutes of talking. She hadn't seen Tobin coming, and as she turns off Venice Boulevard towards the sorority row, she's not sure what she would've done if she had seen this all coming — if she'd have been more nervous or excited for the night, if she'd have had the guts to take this chance.

Her phone buzzes _again_ , and she looks down at the screen in annoyance— it's Kelley, yet again. She's not sure entirely how to explain this night to Kelley, mainly because she's such a goddamn romantic underneath her fuck boy exterior, and because she'll be so smug about the whole thing. Maybe, she thinks, she'll play this down, act like it wasn't a big deal and let it build, see how it pans out in the future before telling her all the details. But no, Kelley knows her too well, and beside, she's her best friend—

Her mind was busy, and maybe if her mind hadn't been so twisted up into knots, she would've seen it coming. Would've seen the headlights swinging into view from her left, would've heard over her music the screech of tires trying and failing to find traction on the slick city street. California drivers have and always will be infamous for their inability to drive in the rain and to pause fully at stop signs, and it was a cataclysmic combination of these two shortcomings that opened the first chapter of all that happened next.

Christen looked down, to her right. To her left, a car swerved, slipping and sliding and skidding through a stop sign. She looked up to late, her eyes caught wide in the headlights of the car as it barreled down on her. She had a second to scream, to grab at the steering wheel, but it was all a second too late before the collision.

The next seconds were silent, a kaleidoscope of glass and blood and fear as her world flipped once, twice, three times. In the moment, she wondered after the simplest things — _where's my phone? I need my phone. I need to call my mom._ — but the world was fading to white and it was all she could do to not scream.

***

When the doorbell rang, Kelley was the last to get up. That was pretty normal — she fell asleep drinking wine in Emily's bed, watching Parks and Recreation and waiting for Christen to get home. She only fully gained consciousness when Emily shook her arm, _hard_.

"Kell, the cops are here." She sat up straight, tossing her head in panic.

"Okay, tell all the girls to hide their booze, if they're doing walk throughs we need to—"

"No, Kelley." Emily's eyes were red and Kelley froze, questions lodging in her throat. "It's not that. It's Christen."

The room seemed to tilt on its axis for a moment. Kelley looked down at her phone, frantically scrolling through the unanswered text messages that she'd blown off the night before. Curses fell from her lips as Emily pulled her out of bed — "Get dressed, they said they'll give us a ride to the hospital." — and threw a sweatshirt at her. She couldn't find the words to string together thoughts, not during her slow stumble down the stairs to meet the police, not during the excruciating ride to the hospital, not in the hours of waiting in a too-hard chair with Emily's arm around her shoulders. In another lifetime, in any other moment, she would've found some solace in the warmth of Emily's hand in hers, but there was too much quiet, so loud in its silence, and it filled her to the core with something desolate and indescribable.

A nurse filled them in on the basics. Christen was driving home alone when a car sped through a stoplight and T-boned her Jeep. The car flipped multiple times. When medics arrived on the scene, the driver was attempting to pull Christen out of her car. The driver's side door was smashed in, and Christen had suffered the brunt of the impact directly. The extent of her injuries was immense — broken arm, broken hip, collapsed lung, possible nerve damage. The most pressing detail, however, was her head trauma. She was suffering a brain bleed upon arrival, and the surgeons were forced to induce a coma in order to operate. There was no telling of when she'd wake up.

The hours stretched to days. Christen's mom arrived on the evening of the first, bringing blankets and coffee and changes of clothes because somehow, just like her daughter, she always found a way to think of everyone else. They huddled in the cold lobby together until the second day, when the doctor emerged and asked for family alone to come see her, shooting Kelley a threatening glare when she assisted they were practically blood related.

On the third day, Emily went home for a few hours, dragging Kelley along to shower and eat her weight in macaroni at the house. (before they left, she found Kelley on the floor in the room she shared with Christen, her forehead pressed to her knees and her face stained with tears, and when she wrapped her arms around her, she realized just how _small_ the older girl truly was.)

On the fifth day, they finally allowed friends into Christen's room. Kelley and Emily and Ashlyn gathered silently around their friend's broken body. Julie joined them later, running a hand softly through her hair.

"She looks like she's sleeping," she whispered, and Kelley looked away, looked anywhere but at the tubes and bandages and machines keeping Christen patched together.

On the eighth day, she woke up.

Her eyes opened slowly as Kelley and Ashlyn played Uno at her bedside. Her sister noticed first, nudging her mom awake, and soon they were all gathered around, calling out for a nurse as Christen's eyes fluttered completely awake.

The doctor ushered them all out, then returned minutes later. He tempered their excitement with warnings — Christen was awake, but her physical capacities were limited and she wouldn't be able to maintain conversation or even consciousness for very long at first. When he spoke with her, she couldn't remember the president's name or the name of her university. He invited back her immediate family, and the walked slowly down the hall, fear painted clearly in all of their features.

The waiting was minutes, then hours again. When Christen's mom reappeared, the fear had hardened into exhaustion.

"You can come back if you want," she said softly. "But she doesn't remember much. She knows the basics, like her family and her name, but everything else is pretty hazy right now. The doctor says it could come back in waves but for now, you just have be patient with her."

The confusion was soft in Christen's eyes when the four girls entered her room. Emily grabbed at Kelley's hand, holding it tight behind her back as she sat down on the hospital bed.

"Hey buddy." Kelley's voice ached as Christen stared up at her, eyes wide as she studied her face. "You gave us a real scare there."

"I'm sorry." Her voice was high and shaky, a tone that Kelley remembered from freshman year, back when Christen was afraid of everything and everyone. "But I don't— I don't really know—"

"I'm Kelley." She reached out, grabbing Christen's hand to still its nervous twitching. "And it's okay. I'm your person. I've got you."

"I don't remember any of this," Christen murmured. "My mom told me about it all, about you all, and I'm so thankful that you've stayed for so long but I don't remember this at all. I don't remember your faces, and if you're my best friends, how do I not remember your—"

Her voice broke, and Kelley heard Ashlyn suck in a shaky breath behind her.

"Chris, what do you remember?" The girl scanned the room slowly, her fingers fidgeting with the blanket tucked tightly across her torso. She coughed, her voice raspy as she croaked out a name.

"Tobin."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm super new to writing and to this ship, so if you have any thoughts let me know :)


End file.
